One of those days
pushing my bike down the lane
too tired to ride
too anxious to leave it behind
I was going "home"
a loose name for a rented contract
a temporary occupation
which is only a legal alias for a room to sleep,shower,cook and live (although the "living"is optional and I opted out)
held together by ink and a landlord
We relocate, we return, but never to the same THERE ,but to a new HERE
I wonder how many others are currently
negotiating the weight of their own bones
considering the sweet silent collapse
Falling down
Withdrawing intention from the muscles
Do we need a raison dˋêtre to move
Or do we only walk because we haven’t yet found
the permission to stay?